


Function: Date Night

by nerdgirlwalking



Series: Function [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2015-10-28
Packaged: 2018-04-28 14:33:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5094293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nerdgirlwalking/pseuds/nerdgirlwalking
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At some nebulous point in early season four while Shaw is selling bottles of luminizer she receives a calendar alert on her phone for a dinner date. Shenanigans ensue like they always do when Root, blackmail, and steak dinners are involved.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Function: Date Night

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Typically I hang over in the Arrow fandom where I write goofy and not so goofy fic about Nyssa and Sara. But since lovable assassins are apparently my wheelhouse I have fallen totally in love with Shoot and got the crazy idea to give writing for them a try. 
> 
> In other words oh crap I tried to write Shoot and am nervously rambling in my author's note (to be fair I ramble in my Nyssara author's notes too just not nervously). Anyway I hope you have as much fun reading this as I did writing it.

 

Sameen Shaw’s phone rumbled across the glass counter behind the lipstick display with an alert. Her supervisor gave her the stink eye for having her phone out while on the clock, but since he was currently with a customer couldn’t do anything about it for the moment. She just smiled banally at him as she snatched up the device and thumbed open her notifications. “Huh.”

 

It was a calendar reminder. “Dinner 8pm. Car to pick up after shift. We’ll supply the party favors.” Shaw knew for a fact that she had not scheduled any dinners lately let alone for tonight. She set the phone back down and smiled, genuinely this time. The day was looking up.

 

She sighed in relief when seven o’clock came and she was finally able to clock out. “Stupid split shifts,” She grumbled as she made her way from the back of the store towards the front entrance. A sleek black limo was parked on the curb just outside of the doors. The driver nodded to her and pulled the back door open.

 

“It’s like that huh?” Shaw grinned. She quickly walked past the driver and slipped into the rear of the vehicle.

 

“Oh good I was hoping you wore that dress to work today. I just love how it shows off your shoulders,” Root purred from the seat opposite Shaw. She was dressed for a night out in a fitted black blazer and matching pants. The deep v of the jacket showed off quite a bit of pale skin. Her makeup was as dark as the outfit, her lips stained a shade Shaw knew to be black cherry. The kohl artfully smudged across her lids making Root’s eyes look larger than normal. The only pop of bright color came from a flash of the red soles of the heels she was wearing when she crossed her legs. Frankly, she looked delicious, not that Shaw would ever say something so stupid out loud.

 

“No, no way in hell,” She opted for instead. Shaw leaned back and fumbled for the door handle behind her. The click of the lock rang out like a gunshot.

 

“Now Sam, don’t be difficult about this. You know what we do is all for the greater good.”

 

“So put John in a dress,” She suggested yet she did go ahead and settle on the bench seat beside Root. With a respectable demilitarized zone between them of course.

 

“As appealing as that sounds this isn’t that sort of party.” Root grinned, “Besides Lurch is busy with another number. I had some downtime so I told Harry I’d take care of this one.”

 

“And you decided to volunteer me for it as well? What if I had plans?”

 

“She checked your schedule for me. So I know you didn’t,” Root gloated. Stupid nosy AI. She was flipping off the next camera she passed. “Your calendar was nice and clear.”

 

Shaw wasn’t going to roll over that easily, “Pretty sure beer and the game counts as plans.”

 

“Think of this as an upgrade.”

 

“From purgatory to hell,” Shaw rolled her eyes.

 

“This cover requires that I have a little company with my meal,” Root explained. “I need some arm candy and you’re way better than picking up some random.”

 

“What there isn’t an app where you swipe right on dupes perfect for mission cover?”

 

Root chuckled at that, “No one as perfect as you.” She batted her eyelashes at Shaw. When she didn’t react Root added “Don’t be so grumpy. You can drink for free tonight. As much as you like, it’s on me.”

 

Shaw scowled, “Is this a mission or not?”                                   

 

Root tilted her head to the side in confusion, “I just told you we’re working a number.”

 

“I’m not about to get loaded while I’m supposed to be watching your back,” Shaw huffed. At the sight of Root’s rapidly expanding smile she added, “It’s unprofessional.”

 

“I wasn’t suggesting you get drunk, Sweetie. Just have a few cocktails to blend in with the crowd and to take the edge off.” She leaned in close enough that Shaw could feel her breath on her skin, “Though it’s nice to hear how seriously you take watching my back.”

 

“I’m serious about everything,” She deflected.

 

“A fact I greatly admire about you.” Root bit her lip, “I imagine you carry that very same intensity in all aspects of your life.” Shaw clenched her jaw. Root exercised her seemingly supernatural ability to gage when she had pressed Shaw just an inch too close to her limit and leaned back. “Did I mention that our destination has won several awards for its dry aged steaks?”

 

Shaw swallowed, “You should have led with that.” Root shrugged, as if the thought had never crossed her mind until that very moment. “Come on then, before I reconsider this stupidity.”

 

“We’re already moving,” Root replied with a smirk.

 

Shaw frowned. She had been so caught up in her banter with Root that she hadn’t even noticed the engine starting up let alone the limo moving. Damnit.

 

Root leaned across the seat into her personal space once again. “Do I distract you, Sameen?”

 

“Like a bad rash,” Shaw quipped. Though honestly she wasn’t that bothered by the flirting in general, just the apparent lack of focus it had generated just now. Root’s incessant stream of come-ons had become slightly less annoying lately. Maybe she was becoming desensitized to it.

 

“You’re saying I’m an itch you can’t get rid of?” Root looked far too pleased with herself.

 

On second thought…

 

“Do you go around writing this crap down as it comes to you to save for a later date?” Shaw fired back.

 

“All I’m saying is that if I’m an itch, you’re more than welcome to scratch…”

 

Shaw held up her hand in warning. “Do not finish that sentence if you want to end the night without any broken fingers.”

 

“I work just as well with my mouth.”

 

Shaw actually growled at that.

 

Root chuckled and leaned back in her seat. “Five minutes.” After a beat she glanced over at Shaw. She tapped an ebony polished nail against her lips in thought, “Let down your hair.”

 

“Am I not pretty enough for you now, Root?”

 

“No fishing for compliments, you know you’re gorgeous,” Root clicked her tongue against her teeth. “That aside, we are trying to portray a certain image here. Utilitarian ponytail is not it.”

 

Shaw rolled her eyes but pulled the elastic from her hair. With a brief shake of her head dark locks tumbled over her shoulders. She reached up and finger combed it a bit to add a little volume. She caught Root watching her out of the corner of her eye. She looked hungry. Shaw smirked. “This good enough for your image?”

 

“Better,” Root breathed.

 

Shaw feeling like she had actually managed to score one on Root for once decided to shift gears while victory was still in hand, “So who’s our number?”

 

Root cleared her throat, “Maxine Abbot, old money socialite. There’s a whiff of scandal around her. People have been talking and there’s been rash of let’s say interesting financial maneuvering popping up in her social circle lately to make that kind of talk go away.”

 

“In other words someone is blackmailing a bunch of snobs and you don’t know if our number is the blackmailer or the next to be blackmailed.”

 

“A plus Sweetie,” Root smiled. “Our number hasn’t made any large deposits lately. But our blackmailer requested their payments in cash. The drop locations were in camera dead spots. And the requests were printed by a generic printer on plain copy paper and delivered by private courier who was also paid in cash.”

 

“There’s no paper trail to follow and nothing remarkable about what evidence we do have.”

 

“Precisely.”

 

“And your eye in the sky can’t point us in either direction went it comes to the number?”

 

“Unfortunately, as you know she’s not in touch as much as I’d like lately.” Root frowned. Shaw pursed her lips. She should have known better than to bring up The Machine. Before she could say anything else though Root smiled and added, “It doesn’t matter. We’re two fully capable gals. We can figure this out in no time.”

 

“Sure Root,” Shaw smiled, glad she hadn’t managed to kick start Root straight into Eeyore-mode. “So what’s our way in?”

 

“Well,” Root tapped her chest, “Emma Huntington Bixby, is the bored daughter of a rather conservative, rather rich shipping magnate out of Boston. She met Ms. Abbot the other day at the planning meeting for the North Bay Regatta. I do believe I impressed her with my vast knowledge of rigging knots and tales of summers spent on my father’s private yachts of course.”

 

“Of course,” Shaw parroted.

 

“I just so happened to mention to Ms. Abbot that I was interested in finding somewhere discreet in the city to share a special evening with a charming companion of mine. She recommended our destination. Funny enough several of our blackmailer’s victims have dined here as well recently.”

 

“So we could be looking at anyone who works in this place in addition to our number.”

 

“Pretty much,” Root shifted in her seat, it didn’t escape Shaw’s notice that the move substantially narrowed the distance between them. “Thus the reason for our little dinner date. We need to catch our blackmailer’s attention.”

 

Shaw tapped her fingers on the seat between them. Root’s right hand rested a pinky’s width away from her left. “And so I’m what tonight? Your dirty little secret?”

 

Root simply smirked in answer.

 

Shaw rolled her eyes, “I am not making out with you in the middle of a restaurant.”

 

“What kind of girl do you take me for?” Root reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind Shaw’s ear. “I got us a private booth in the back.”

 

Before Shaw could reply there was a knock on the window. “We’re here.” Root gestured towards the now opening door. “Try to act like you enjoy my company.”

 

She wouldn’t have to act. The truth was she had fun with Root. She wasn’t going to add to the over inflation of the hacker’s ego by telling her that though. “Try not to be a complete psycho,” She smiled sweetly and then took the offered hand of their driver to step out of the car. Once Shaw was standing on the sidewalk she took a look around. They were on a relatively quiet street. A quick glance down the block revealed they were surrounded by a mix of residential and commercial properties.

 

Root stepped beside her and placed a hand on the small of her back. If Shaw’s skin prickled pleasantly at the brush of her fingers along her spine it was no one’s business but her own. “This way,” She gestured to the building in front of them with her free hand, “Private supper club on the third floor. I snagged us a guest invite for the evening.”

 

“You better not have been lying about the steaks.”

 

Their table wasn’t quite ready yet so the overly solicitous host guided them over to the bar area to wait. They were standing on a slightly raised expanse overlooking the rest of the dining area. Shaw scanned the room while Root made small talk with the bartender. Mahogany paneled walls, booths lined in deep burgundy, wait staff in crisply pressed shirts and slacks with spotless aprons were flitting from table to table. You probably had to have been born with a gold plated stick shoved up your ass to get a membership to this place.

 

Her train of thought was broken by a glass being wiggled in front of her eyes, “Here Sam, I got you a treat.”

 

Shaw took the cool glass from Root’s hand and took a discrete sniff. Hmmm. She caught a glimpse of the label as the bartender tucked the bottle the drink had come from back onto an upper shelf, “Balblair?” She smiled at Root’s nod, but then remembered they were there for a reason. Shaw set the glass down on the bar, “I told you I wasn’t drinking tonight.”

 

“And I think one drink won’t hurt anything.” Shaw stared down at the glass, considering it. “It’s not like we can pour it back in the bottle,” Root prodded.

 

“Fine,” She scooped the glass back up and took a hearty sip. She moaned as the amber liquid rolled around on her tongue. She savored the slight burn in her throat after she swallowed. “Damn that’s good.” She looked up to see Root biting her lip as she stared at her mouth. “You need some ice?”

 

Root blinked at her, “What?”

 

Shaw traced a finger down her own throat, “You’re looking a little flushed there.”

 

Root shook her head, “What can I say? It’s just what you do to me, Sweetie.” She picked up her own glass, a vodka tonic, heavy on the tonic, if Shaw had to guess, and took a gulp.

 

“Any intel on the room?”

 

Root sat down her glass with a thunk. “When I say this place is private I mean private.” She gestured towards the antique tin ceiling, “No security cameras.”

 

“So we’re doing this the old fashioned way?” Shaw’s eyes narrowed as she noticed that the bartender’s eyes kept wandering to Root. Specifically Root’s ass. That was kind of rude. She was obviously here with a date after all.

 

“You up for it?” Root asked oblivious to her new fan boy and Shaw’s growing ire at him.

 

Shaw reached out and placed a hand on Root’s hip tugging her closer. “I’m always up for it.” She glared at the bartender who had the good sense to look away. That’s right bottle boy.

 

“Whoa there cowgirl.” Root placed a hand on Shaw’s chest. “We need to at least have dinner first,” She laughed. She leaned in close to whisper into Shaw’s ear, “See this is why I needed you on this job, you can’t fake chemistry like ours.”

 

Shaw shook her head. Discouraged one creep only to encourage Root. She sighed, “Any sign of our number?”

 

Root twirled so that her back was to the bar and surveyed the room. “Not yet but the reservation calendar has her scheduled for a table for two tonight.”

 

“No cameras but they have a computerized reservation system?”

 

“Some people have to be dragged to progress kicking and screaming and only then by increments,” Root winked at her.

 

Shaw looked skyward at that little dig. “We’re just going to hang out until she shows up?”

 

“That’s the plan,” Root nodded. “Eat, drink and be merry.”

 

Shaw considered it, “As far as your plans go it’s not actually the worst.”

 

“The only kamikazes will come in shot glasses, I promise.”

 

Shaw snorted, “Don’t think this is that sort of establishment, Root.”

 

She shrugged, “There’s always the after party.”

 

They spent another ten minutes at the bar before the host arrived to show them to their table. Shaw made it a point to periodically glare at the bartender behind Root’s back the entire time. But as much fun as that was she was happy when they were finally led over to a booth on the wall at about the midpoint of the dining area. It was a superb vantage point. She slid into the booth first, while Root walked to the opposite side. The host set their menu’s down on the table with a flourish. “Adam, your server, will be with you ladies shortly.”

 

“Thank you,” Root replied as she scooted in on her side of the booth. To Shaw’s confusion she continued to scoot around the u-shaped bench until she was sitting at a ninety degree angle from Shaw. She was so close that their knees brushed under the table.

 

“Why are you sitting there?”

 

“What’s wrong with here?” Root asked looking as innocent as a lamb. A homicidal lamb.

 

“This booth is the size of a minibus,” She gestured to the space directly opposite of her seat. “Go sit over there.”

 

“Now, now,” Root chuckled sliding even closer to her. “This is supposed to be romantic, the first blush of new love. I need to be close to my girl.”

 

Shaw clenched her jaw, “You’ve never met the concept of a personal bubble have you?”

 

“Oh I’m well acquainted with the concept,” Root smirked. “I just think that for the sake of the mission our bubbles should be conjoined twins.”

 

“Right, the mission. Sure.” She flipped open her menu. When in doubt ignore. She was going to order the biggest steak they had. Maybe they had something extremely garlic-y. Root had vampire tendencies, what with her pale skin, nocturnal hours, and penchant for hearing voices maybe that would put her off a bit.

 

“So glad you agree, Sweetie.” Root took a sip of her drink, “Besides you started it with that little move at the bar.”

 

Shaw snapped her menu closed. She was going to kill that bartender. This was his fault. Rude bastard with his wandering eyes.

 

“The table at three o’clock,” Root canted her head in that direction.

 

“What?”

 

“Ms. Abbot has arrived with her date.” Root’s eyes widened a bit. “I think that’s her pool boy.”

 

“That’s our number?” Shaw scoffed, “Well my vote is victim. She looks like a soccer mom. Granted one with expensive tastes.” Maxine Abbot appeared to be in her late forties. The dark, conservatively cut dress she wore was clearly designer. Her hair was pulled into a neat chignon, dye job impeccable outside of the fact that her particular shade of red wasn’t found in nature. She looked like half the other snobs in this place, if not slightly stuffier. Well except for the fact that she was sitting across from a kid that was at least half her age.

 

Root chuckled, “Clearly you’ve never been to a football game in Texas. The sports moms are the most vicious ones.”

 

“Think she brought a juice box for her little friend?”

 

Root chuckled, “I’m sure he’s old enough to drink. Or at least have a fake I.D. that says so.”

 

“Banging the pool boy would be a hot bit of news in the gossip circles don’t you think?”

 

“Maybe,” Root didn’t sound convinced.

 

“Come on, I seriously doubt she’s a perp,” Shaw glanced back over at their number, “Woman looks harmless.”

 

“And that line of thinking is how a gal like you ends up zip tied to a hotel chair.”

 

“Not everyone is as kinky as you, Root,” Shaw chuckled. She reached for her glass again but stopped as Root placed a hand on her arm.

 

“That’s why I like you so much, Sameen.” Shaw looked down as Root ran her fingers over the inside of her wrist. “Sharing similar interests is important for a good relationship.”

 

“Good evening ladies,” A perky voice announced. Shaw looked up to see a lanky young man barely out of his teens standing beside their table. “I’m Adam your server. Would you like to hear tonight’s spec…”

 

“I’m going to stop you right there,” Shaw interjected before he could get going. She was starving. They did not have time to cover the specials. “I’ll have the porterhouse, medium rare and I mean medium rare. Do not overcook it.” The look in her eyes conveyed grave consequences for him if it was not delivered to the table prepared to her satisfaction. The waiter noticeably gulped. “Loaded baked potato for the side. Loaded means loaded, don’t skimp on the toppings, and don’t even think about bringing me a salad. That’s a waste of both our times.”

 

The waiter coughed and turned to Root, “And for you ma’am?”

 

“The surf and turf I think,” She glanced over at Shaw. “You can finish whatever I can’t handle right, Sweetie?” Shaw grumbled her agreement. “Salad with the champagne vinaigrette, I don’t find lettuce a personal insult.” Shaw glared at her. “And a bottle of the house red for the table.” She smiled up at him. “I think I can convince her to share some of that with me.” She turned her focus back to Shaw, “Unless you plan to get me drunk and take advantage?” Root’s smile turned wicked, “Then we’ll need two bottles.”

 

“One bottle is plenty,” Shaw ground out. She pointedly ignored Root’s pout at that directive and practically threw their menus at poor Adam.

 

“Very good madam.” He bobbled the menus in his hands but managed not to drop them. Once they were tucked under his arm he moved away from the table as quickly as decorum would allow.

 

“It’s your fault if our food gets spat on,” Root tisked.

 

“If my steak gets spat on someone is getting shanked.”

 

“You really shouldn’t be rude to wait staff.”

 

“Please you know that I haven’t even begun to get rude.” Shaw took a sip from her glass. She rolled her eyes at the disappointed look Root was giving her. “I haven’t eaten since this morning okay? I’m a little hangry, if the kid can’t handle that,” She trailed off into a rant about their waiter needing to toughen up.

 

Root shook her head as she mentally calculated a twenty five percent increase in the young man’s tip. He’d certainly earn it seeing as Shaw seemed to be in a particular mood tonight. Maybe she shouldn’t have brought up a second bottle of wine.

 

Shaw tapped her on the arm, “Hey eyes up, our number is on the move.”

 

The number walked right up to their table. “Emma darling, I am so happy to see you took me up on my recommendation.”

 

“I am so glad I did Maxine,” Root gushed and gestured to the room around them, “This place is lovely.”

 

“I certainly adore it,” Abbot nodded. “I can put you in touch with management if you’d like to join.”

 

“Oh would you?” Root asked. “Wow I am being so rude. Maxine this is Sam.” She placed her arm around Shaw’s shoulders. “Sam you remember me telling you about Maxine from the regatta meeting?”

 

“Right,” Shaw smiled, “Lovely to meet you.”

 

“You too,” Abbot smiled back at her.

 

“Sam was so excited when I told her we were coming here for dinner. She’s very serious about her steaks.” Root pecked her on the cheek. Shaw’s grip tightened on the glass in her hand. “She’s so cute about her food.”

 

“And where did you two meet?”

 

“Bloomingdales,” Root replied. “I popped in for a new polish one afternoon between appointments in the city. I saw her working at the makeup counter and couldn’t resist introducing myself,” She cooed looking at Shaw with hooded eyes. “It hasn’t been long but I think I’ve managed to get under her skin.”

 

Abbot looked expectantly at Shaw. “There hasn’t been a day since we met when she hasn’t been on my mind,” Shaw added.

 

“How charming,” Abbot smiled. She then leaned in close over the table, “Though isn’t it a bit scandalous? Dating the help as it were? The female help at that?” She glanced at a glowering Shaw, “Not that there’s anything wrong with having a day job, Dear.”

 

“Not like you’d know,” Shaw growled and clenched her glass tighter. Her knuckles were beginning to go white from the force of her grip. Root was afraid it might shatter in her palm.

 

Root reached out and placed her hand over Shaw’s. She smiled in satisfaction when she felt the muscles relax minutely. She brushed her thumb against Shaw’s wrist. “Well we’re keeping our association quiet at the moment.” She cleared her throat as if she were growing nervous, “That’s one reason I like this place. No paps lying in wait outside.” Root dipped her head, “No sense in broadcasting things until we’ve been together a while longer. Family can have certain expectations, you know.”

 

Abbot glanced back at her table, where her guest was plowing his way through the bread basket, “Oh I completely understand.”

 

Root leaned against Shaw and nuzzled her throat. She made a show of slipping the hand that had been covering Shaw’s on to her thigh near the hem of her dress, “We’re just trying to live in the now, right Sweetie?” Her hand slid just a fraction of an inch higher.

 

“Uh huh,” Shaw agreed. She let go of the glass and wrapped her arm around Root’s back. She slid her hand along her side and suddenly dug her fingers into her ribs. She was sure that to Abbot it looked like she was encouraging her date’s cuddling. In reality Root sucked in a pained breath at the move. Her hand slid back down towards Shaw’s knee. Shaw relaxed her grip and smiled up at Abbot in victory, “I’d just hate to have to share her.”

 

“Of course,” Abbot smiled. “It’ll be our little secret ladies,” She winked.

 

Root rested her head against Shaw’s shoulder, “Thank you, Maxine.”

 

“Enjoy the rest of your meal,” She replied and continued her trip to the bar.

 

“How about you don’t molest me in public?” Shaw snapped under her breath.

 

“Does that mean I have the option to do so in private?” Root shot back.

 

Shaw groaned. There was no winning with her. She decided a change in topic was in order. She nodded towards Abbot’s back, “Even if she’s not a blackmailer she’s definitely a bitch.”

 

Root sat up and scooted around a bit so that she’d have a clear line of sight to the bar. Abbot had stopped to chat with a couple at another table. “She seems to be working the room.”

 

“Who refers to people as the help to their faces?” Shaw tilted her head back so that she was looking down her nose at Root, “Oh it’s so scandalous you’re fucking the help dearie. Have you met my date? He’s a zygote.”

 

Root smiled at her indulgently, “Can’t say I’ll be disappointed if the opportunity to kneecap Ms. Abbot arises.”

 

“Oh no I should get to kneecap her. I’m the help after all. Wouldn’t want you breaking a nail or something.”

 

“I get the feeling that Ms. Abbot, while annoying, may not be our perpetrator.”

 

Shaw raised an eyebrow at that statement, “Insight from on high?”

 

Root shook her head. “The gentleman in the bad suit standing just over your shoulder next to the bar has got hungry eyes.” Root took a sip from her drink, “He’s been watching us since Ms. Abbot approached the table.”

 

Shaw glanced over her shoulder. Sure enough a doofus in an ill-fitting sport coat was staring directly at them. “Is that a bolo tie?” She glanced back at Root, “Can I shoot him for crimes against fashion?”

 

“I don’t think Harry would approve of that directive,” Root grinned, “I’m game though.”

 

“Nah better not,” Shaw looked over towards the bar again. “I only get so many random shootings before he starts cutting into my time with Bear. Nearly at my limit for the month.”

 

“I could do it,” Root replied. “I’d hate for you to get grounded and miss time with your boy.”

 

“You get in enough trouble with Finch on your own.” She watched as the guy nodded to their number as she walked past him. “He seems to be familiar with Abbot.” The guy watched as Abbot placed an order at the bar. He caught Shaw watching them both and winked at her. When she turned back to Root she looked like she had been chewing on a bag of lemons. “He can’t be serious.”

 

“Not subtle is he?”

 

“No,” Shaw reached out and downed the last of her drink. “Now for everyone’s favorite game show, Perp or Perv?”

 

“Pervy perp would be my guess,” Root replied. “He keeps looking back here and fumbling with his phone.”

 

“Or maybe he wants my digits?” Shaw quipped.

 

Root shrugged her shoulders, “Can’t blame a guy for that.” Her eyes narrowed, “But judging by the angle that he’s holding it he’s shooting video.”

 

“Suddenly, I feel the need to go freshen up,” Shaw nodded at the hallway which led to the bathrooms. Coincidentally it was adjacent to the area of the bar in which Mr. Hungry Eyes was standing. “Let’s see just how interested he is.”

 

Root propped her elbow on the table and leaned her head against her fist, “Don’t be too long.”

 

Shaw rose from the table and started towards the bar. A glance at their target revealed he was tracking her progress with interest. She was certain Root was watching as well. Shaw made sure to add an extra bit of sway to her hips, for the sake of the creeper of course, not because she could feel Root’s eyes on her. She paused briefly at the bar; thankfully someone new was working back there, and ordered another round for the table. If they really had this guy on the hook it wouldn’t hurt to have another drink on Root’s tab.

 

When the bartender assured her that the order would be on the way to her table shortly she smiled at the still staring perv once more for good measure and then made her way around the corner towards the bathrooms. The long hallway was empty. She made a mental note as she past it that the manager’s office was off of this hallway as a force of habit, always needing to memorize the layout of any given area, she was operating in. She turned another corner and found the restroom. She stepped inside and counted to fifty for good measure before walking back out again.

 

This time when she rounded the corner the hallway was no longer empty. “Hey, Sweetie,” Root called out. Shaw stopped walking as Root came closer. She stretched out her arm and took Shaw’s hand when she reached her. She guided her to the side of the hallway.

 

“Something you need?”

 

Root giggled, “From you? Always.” She advanced until Shaw’s back was against the wall. She leaned in and whispered in her ear, “He watched you the entire way.”

 

“It could just be because I’m hot,” She replied, voice equally hushed. Maybe the guy was really just an unsubtle, leering jerk, like the bartender earlier.

 

“He started this way when I passed him. I think he’s hiding around the corner.”

 

Shaw scanned the area to see if Root was right. She noticed a suspicious shadow stretching across the bar end of the hallway. Suspicious but not completely damming, “I hate myself already for admitting this but you’re hot too, you know.”

 

“I considered that and then I figured we should give him a little extra nudge, see what he does with something especially juicy,” Root leaned in closer.

 

“What did?” Shaw actually stuttered at Root’s proximity, “What did you have in mind?”

 

“Hopefully nothing that will get me stabbed,” Root grabbed Shaw’s hips and before she had a chance to resist she closed the remaining distance between them and brushed their lips together.

 

Shaw knew that she should push Root away after the first minute. A couple of kisses would be more than enough enticement if this really was their guy. But the soft brush of Root’s lips mixed with the lingering traces of rose hips and bergamot from her perfume proved to be too intoxicating for Shaw to resist. She groaned and pulled Root tighter against her body.

 

When she gasped at the move Shaw took advantage and slipped her tongue between Root’s lips deepening their kiss. Root moaned and slid a hand up along Shaw’s spine to the back of her neck to play with the fine hairs there. Shaw shuddered; it was one of her sweet spots.

 

The clack of heels forced them to pull apart. Maxine Abbot walked past them towards the bathrooms with a smirk. Shaw rolled her eyes at the woman just before she disappeared around the corner. Root reached out and ran a thumb across Shaw’s bottom lip. She turned to look at her with wide eyes. “You had a bit of my lipstick.” Root gestured to the corner of her mouth.

 

“Oh,” Shaw breathed. She caught a flash of movement at the opposite end of the hallway in the corner of her eye. So she leaned forward and nuzzled into Root’s neck.

 

“What are you?” She squeaked.

 

“On your left,” Shaw whispered in her good ear.

 

Root turned her head minutely. Anyone watching would assume it was due to whatever Shaw was doing to her neck. “Looks like our perv is definitely our perp,” She whispered. Root turned her head to rub her cheek against Shaw’s hair. “By the way he’s holding that cell phone I’d say he’s got some great shots of us.”

 

Shaw knew she should be focused on the mission but apparently she had completely lost her damn mind, “Let’s give him a little something extra just to be sure,” She murmured and pulled Root in for another kiss. This time when they separated long moments later they were alone in the hallway. They stared at each other in silence for a minute.

 

“Think we gave our blackmailer enough rope to hang himself?” Root asked, bringing them back to the matter at hand, though she sounded a little off balance.

 

“Probably,” Shaw coughed; she wasn’t exactly at one hundred percent herself at the moment. “I think I’ll go um freshen up a bit for real this time.”

 

“Okay,” Root nodded. “I’ll head back to the table. We should probably finish dinner.”

 

“Yeah, wouldn’t want our guy to get suspicious.” Shaw pointed over her shoulder towards the bathrooms, “I’ll just be a minute.”

 

Root looked like she wanted to say something else but instead shook her head and walked away. Shaw stood and watched until she rounded the corner and disappeared from view. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and then made her way towards the bathrooms.

 

When she shoved the door open the room was empty. That should have triggered a few warning bells in her mind but she wasn’t exactly focused on the mission at the moment. She walked over to the sinks in a daze.

 

Shaw stared at her reflection in the mirror. “What the hell are you doing?” She wet a paper towel and dabbed at her cheeks. The move did nothing for the slight flush there. A flush caused by Root. Correction by making out with Root. Shaw was no stranger to making out. It was fun. Felt good and led to sex which typically felt better. But she also knew that the way that she felt about it wasn’t the same as what normal people did.

 

“Not like Root is normal either.”

 

It wasn’t a bad thing. Other than the incessant flirting, Root was better to be around than most people. She was hot and liked kneecapping idiots just as much as Shaw did. Root didn’t mind the smell of gun oil and knew that Bear, the mission, and sandwiches came first in Shaw’s life. There were defiantly worse options out there.

 

She bit her lip. “This is crazy. This is Root. You don’t do warm fuzzies with Root.” She threw up her hands in exasperation, “You don’t do warm fuzzies period.” She glared into her own eyes in the mirror; she couldn’t do this right now, “Mind on the mission.”

 

She nodded to herself and walked towards the door. She’d finish dinner and tomorrow when Root got her blackmail packet she’d trace it back to the creeper from the bar and that would be that. Root would get another mission from her robo-god and Shaw would go back to hawking lip liners and chasing irrelevant numbers with Reese and Finch. She’d wait a while and things would get back to normal.

 

“That’s just how it has to be. I can’t give her anything else.” That thought made her feel off balance, odd, unsettled. It wasn’t pleasant. She grabbed the door handle with a bit more force than was strictly necessary because of it. However, when she gave the handle a tug nothing happened. She yanked harder, still nothing. The door wouldn’t budge. It appeared that she was locked in.

 

“Well shit.”

 

After ten minutes Root started to worry. She seriously contemplated chugging right from the bottle of wine that had been delivered to the table in their absence. She had known it was a calculated risk to kiss Sameen in the hallway but then unexpectedly she had kissed her back. Had gone in for seconds and thirds even. Was the other woman freaking out about it now? Root smirked. Well freaking out in Shaw terms was relative and usually involved property damage. Root should probably go and make sure Sameen hadn’t completely destroyed the bathroom.

 

She slid out of the booth just as Adam, the waiter, appeared carrying their entrees. “Is everything alright ma’am?” He asked.

 

“Oh it’s perfect,” Root smiled. “Just have to make a quick trip to the powder room.” She glanced at Shaw’s steak as he placed it on the table. “Oh dear.”

 

The waiter froze, “Ah.”

 

“Does that steak look just a hair overdone to you?”

 

He gulped, “I’ll take it back immediately ma’am.”

 

Root smirked; she really shouldn’t be having this much fun messing with the poor kid. “Oh I’m sure I’m just being silly.” She turned and marched towards the bathrooms before he could decide what to do next. Though, honestly she’d be shocked if he didn’t present Shaw with a fresh steak when they returned to the table.

 

She quickly traversed the dining room and cut across the bar area. Root turned the corner for the hallway leading to the restrooms just in time to see the man from earlier unlocking the door to the manager’s office. Well that would explain why he used this place as his hunting grounds. She adjusted her top to showcase maximum cleavage. Maybe she could get the final confirmation they needed that he was the reason Maxine Abbot’s number came up. She didn’t think too hard about how this little side trip was going to delay her inevitable confrontation with Sameen.

 

“Hey there,” She drawled from the doorway.

 

“Well hello,” The guy replied with what she was sure he considered a charming smile. “Something I can help you with, Gorgeous?”

 

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Root replied. “You’ve taken quite a noticeable interest in my friend and I.”

 

He didn’t seem surprised by the accusation. “Two beautiful women together, what man wouldn’t take an interest?” He shrugged his shoulders as if to say boys will be boys.

 

“Most men have manners enough not to take pictures of strangers without permission.”

 

He frowned in what Root was certain was mock confusion, “Pictures?”

 

“You weren’t subtle with your phone.” Root’s fingers brushed against the lipstick taser in her clutch, glad that she had thought to bring it with her. She moved further into the room. The tiny gadget packed a punch but it didn’t have a great deal of range. “What exactly are you planning to do with those?”

 

He leaned back against the desk, “Would you believe me if I told you they were for personal use?”

 

“You seem like the sleazy type, but you also strike me as more enterprising than that.” Root shook her head, “When should I expect my letter to arrive?”

 

He grinned at her, “You’re smarter than Max pegged you for.”

 

“So Ms. Abbot is in on it?”

 

“It was my idea,” A voice replied from behind Root and then everything went dark.

 

Meanwhile Shaw finally managed to pry the bathroom door open. “What kind of idiot puts penitentiary strength locks on the door to a public restroom?” She growled staring at the blade she had ruined getting the door open. She tossed it to the floor in disgust, “Root owes me a new knife.” Stupid door, stupid bendy knife, stupid her for not bringing her bag with her phone along, and stupid dress that was so tight she couldn’t keep a gun on her to shoot her frustration with this entire night away.

 

She silently padded down the hallway; Root was probably worried given how long she had been gone. Not that she cared. The other woman would probably want to process Shaw’s actions and she was not about to have that conversation. Especially as they were still technically on a mission. Though she was surprised the other woman hadn’t come looking for her by now. It was even weirder that no one had knocked on the door in all that time, “Do rich people never need to pee?” She muttered to herself. Shaw slowed her steps when she drew near the manager’s office. Raised voices from within had caught her attention.

 

“Why the hell did you do that?” Male voice, by the inflection dude was slightly panicked.

 

“You heard her she knows about the letters. I specifically overheard her tell her little friend something about blackmail. And now she knows we’re both involved,” That was Maxine Abbot and the man must be their perv with the cellphone camera. Shaw got the distinct feeling that the “she” they were referring to was Root. She leaned forward to peer into the room and bit back a curse. Mr. Hungry Eyes and their number were indeed standing over Root’s prone form. Fortunately for Shaw their backs were to the door.

 

“Where’s’ the other one?”

 

“I locked her in the bathroom. We’ll have to go get her in a minute.”

 

“So what are we supposed to do with them?” The jackass poked Root with the toe of his cheap loafer. Shaw’s eyes narrowed. Good job asshole you just earned yourself a broken foot with your kneecapping. As soon she found something to kneecap the guy with that is. While the pair was still focused on Root, she took a quick glance around the room. Desk, filing cabinet, low profile green leather sofa. Useless, useless, useless.

 

“I’m sure daddy would pay to get his darling daughter back.”

 

“But like you said she knows who we are.” The two idiots bantered back and forth about what to do with their unconscious guest.

 

Shaw knew she only had so much time before they came to the inevitable dumb decision to take out Root. Her gaze flickered over to a side table just inside of the door. A small statue sat on display in a place of honor there. It looked like two worms carved out of marble, twisting around each other. It was one of the ugliest pieces of pretentious crap Shaw had ever seen but it did look heavy. She slid over until she was fully in the open doorway and picked up the statue. Hmm, seemed ugly weighed at least six pounds. This would do nicely. She eased the door closed.

 

Abbot’s voice caught Shaw’s attention, “All I said was that he’d pay to get her back, not that he would.”

 

And we have arrived at our stupid conclusion, time to go to work. Shaw dashed forward and whacked their male perp upside the head with the statue. He crumpled to the ground without a whimper. Unfortunately he sort of fell half on top of Root. Shaw fought not to roll her eyes. She was never going to hear the end of that one if the idiot managed to break anything when he landed.

 

“Isn’t this sweet?”

 

Shaw spun around to see Abbot holding a gun on her. “Emma sure knows how to pick them. Shop girl turned brawler?”

 

Shaw twisted her neck with a slight pop. Clubbing that guy had started to get her adrenaline flowing. “I have layers.” With that she dropped the statue on idiot number two’s foot so that both of her hands were free.

 

“You’re about to get a bullet if you don’t back away and sit down like a good girl.” Shaw snickered at the poor attempt to be threatening. Abbot’s eyes narrowed as she jabbed the barrel of the gun towards her. “This isn’t a joke, dear. I will shoot you.”

 

Shaw smirked, “Normally that would be just terrifying but you uh forgot to take the safety off.” She darted at the woman and with two precise strikes and a twist the gun was now in her hand and Abbot was clutching her aching wrist to her chest.

 

“I’ve got money. You seem like a bright girl,” Abbot purred, apparently deciding that if threatening didn’t work that bribery could. “We can leave Emma here with Julian and then I’m sure you and I could work something out. I’ve got gobs of untraceable cash at my disposal, there has to be something you want that I can provide you.”

 

“Lady, I already have everything I could ever want with her.” Shaw flipped the gun in her hand and pistol whipped Abbot across the face knocking her out.

 

With that done she focused on Root. Shaw walked over and with a forceful shove from her left foot rolled Abbot’s partner away from her. She then knelt down by Root’s head. “Hey,” she called poking the other woman in the shoulder. “Wakey, wakey, Root.”

 

With a groan pained brown eyes opened to stare up at her. “Please tell me you kneecapped her?”

 

Shaw grinned, “Pistol whipped.”

 

“Eye for an eye? I love it when you go Old Testament,” Root replied as she slowly sat up. Shaw wrapped an arm around her back to help. “Zip ties are in my clutch,” Root tilted her head to the side, “Under that guy. Shame I didn’t get the chance to try my new taser.”

 

Shaw scrambled to collect the restraints, “You really did bring the party favors.”

 

Root watched Shaw make her way across the bar twenty minutes later. She had been ordered there to grab some ice for the goose egg on the back of her head and to settle their tab while Shaw called in the cavalry for cleanup. She couldn’t help but smile when the shorter brunette reached her side, “Ready to go?”

 

Shaw nodded. “Think we can stop for drive through on the way home? I’m still hungry and pissed that because of those idiots I didn’t get my steak,” She grumbled. They couldn’t exactly hang around and finish dinner now that the cops were on the way.

 

“Actually,” Root held up a large insulated sack. “I arranged for a doggie bag, while you were talking to Lionel.”

 

“You’re my freaking hero, Root.”

 

She beamed at Shaw’s praise. As they started down the stairs she playfully bumped her shoulder against Shaw’s. “Aren’t you glad you joined me for date night?”

 

Shaw chuckled, “I’ve been on worse dates that’s for sure.”

 

Root practically skipped the rest of the way down the stairs. “You know I always provide a lady with a good time.”

 

“Sure, Root.” Shaw had to admit she did always have fun with the perky psycho. Tonight’s little adventure was no exception. And wouldn’t you know, it seemed like Root was smart enough not to make a big deal about the…erm incident in the hallway. Shaw definitely needed some time on her own to unpack that and whatever the hell her little confession to their number had meant.

 

When they reached the car, Root waved off the driver, opening the door for Shaw herself with a slight bow, “After you.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

Root climbed in behind her and once they were settled she opened the bag and handed Shaw the box with her meal. The ride back to Shaw’s apartment was quiet. Other than the occasional moan from Shaw over her steak, Root hadn’t lied it was freaking heavenly, there was little conversation between them as they focused on their food.

 

By the time the limo pulled to a stop, Shaw had finished her meal. She watched as Root closed the box on what looked like half of her filet and several shrimp. She slipped that box back into the thermal carrier and held it out to Shaw. “Finish that for me? It’s too good to waste and I don’t have that much of an appetite, too much excitement I guess.”

 

“Sure,” Shaw replied as she took the bag from her. “How’s the head?”

 

“Achy.” Root smiled sweetly at her, “But still attached to my shoulders thanks to you.”

 

Shaw watched her eyes to check her pupils one last time. “I don’t think you have a concussion but you start to feel dizzy or get any nausea you call me.”

 

“Right away,” Root mock saluted her.

 

Shaw snorted, “We’ve got to get you some training on situational awareness when the bat-computer isn’t involved.”

 

“Before or after your lessons on how not to get locked in the bathroom by a seemingly harmless soccer mom?”

 

“Touché, Root, touché.” She reached out and opened the door.

 

“Sweet dreams.”

 

“Text me when you get to whatever borrowed apartment The Machine set you up with this week.” Shaw looked down at her feet, “Just so I know you didn’t pass out between here and there. The driver looks sketchy, like he’d take advantage.” Shaw rolled her eyes at her own lame excuse.

 

Surprisingly Root didn’t jump at the opportunity to run with an obvious innuendo. “Will do,” She softly replied instead.

 

Shaw shouldered the to-go bag and climbed from the back of the vehicle with as much dignity as possible. She closed the limo door softly behind her in deference to Root’s headache. Then she started towards the stairs to her building.

 

“Wait,” Root suddenly called after her. Shaw turned around to see Root’s head sticking out of the limo’s sunroof.

 

Shaw sighed; this couldn’t be good, “Yeah?” Root just grinned at her like an idiot. “Did you need something else, Root?”

 

“So,” Root began; a wicked gleam in her eye, “Everything you could ever want, Sameen?” Damn she must have been playing opossum that entire time. She had heard everything. And now Root was grinning at her like she had won the lottery.

 

Shaw couldn’t deal with this right now. She turned and stomped towards her building with a growl, “I was talking about the steak.”


End file.
